


take you in, like the air (you’re a nice surprise)

by felicities



Category: BLACKPINK (Band)
Genre: F/F, post-Blackpink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:34:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27274252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felicities/pseuds/felicities
Summary: Years after her time in BLACKPINK, Rosé finds herself back in South Korea, a mere two hours away from Lisa, who’s on tour in Tokyo.
Relationships: Lalisa Manoban | Lisa/Park Chaeyoung | Rosé
Comments: 20
Kudos: 136





	take you in, like the air (you’re a nice surprise)

_i._

_Hey you. Lookin’ good._

She stares at her phone, looking at the words she’d been typing and re-typing over and over for the past two minutes. She presses delete, watching each letter disappear, her eyes fixated on the blinking cursor. 

_I miss you._

She deletes it again.

She settles on her first message, attaching the photo she took of Lisa’s billboard in Times Square—a place she rarely ever ventures into. But today, she needed a change of pace. She’s always loved the feeling of disappearing into a crowd of strangers. Seeing a familiar face, even if it’s on a gigantic, blinking screen, is comforting enough.

It’s dusk. The sun is just about to set, and she wants to make it home in time for dinner. Lisa should be waking up soon, she thinks, before shrugging the thought off. When she hits send, she feels her heart leap in her chest. She pockets her phone and makes her way through the throng of tourists when she sees flecks of snow falling in front her. _Of course_ , she says. _Of course_. 

_ii._

It takes days before she gets a reply. That week, she flies into South Korea for work—her first time being back there in almost five years. It still feels like home, _almost_. When her phone buzzes in her hand, she thinks nothing of it, until she sees Lisa’s name and message.

_Haha_ , Lisa texts back. _I miss you, Chaeng!_

Rosé feels her heart leap in her chest again. In an instant, she feels warmth creep all over her cheeks. She sits up in bed, feeling the exhaustion from the past months wash away. In the years since her group bowed out, Rosé has made a name for herself overseas. She’s written songs and released records; starred in movies and sang to overflowing arenas. Life has been kind to her—her career has only soared since she and her members went their separate ways. 

It had been a good run, she and them. “We will be remembered,” she told them on their last huddle for their final show—a sold-out two-day run in Seoul. “We’ve made sure of that. I’m so proud of you girls, and I love you,” she said, tightening her grip on Lisa and Jisoo’s hands. In front of her, she smiles and nods at Jennie, who does the same. 

That final show was like nothing she had ever experienced. For a moment, she wondered if she will ever feel this way again. It was electric, tantalizing. “I’ll never forget this day for as long as I live,” she tells the crowd, soft pinks dotting the stadium like little stars. The audience roars, and she feels the tears threaten to fall again. “I’m not about to cry _again_ ,” she sputters, and Lisa— _ever the reliable Lisa_ —appears next to her with a handkerchief, wiping the tears rolling down her cheeks.

At the end of it all, Rosé can proudly say that she has no regrets. But if she’s being honest with herself—and she’s finding that she has been more and more these days—there’s one person she wishes she’d been braver for.

_iii._

If Rosé were to forget just one memory—just one to stop coming back to, just one to make the lonely nights feel a little bit more bearable—it would be that one damned weekend with Lisa in Japan. It was in-between albums—which ones, she could no longer remember—when they were granted a quick vacation. Just three days, they’re told. Just three days, and then back into months on months on months of work. So: “Just three days,” she tells Lisa. “Just three days of you and me and Tokyo. What do you say?” 

Rosé knows it’s an imposition. After all, vacations are so hard to come by and there’s family waiting for them at home. Lisa smiles—that big, bright smile Rosé could never get enough of. (If she could bottle a feeling, though, she’d bottle the one she gets every time Lisa directed one of her gigantic grins at her.) Lisa smiles, stares Rosé down, and raises her eyebrows. Rosé feels her heart pounding in her ribcage, ready for it to sink, and then—

“Yes,” Lisa says. “ _Yes_!” 

Rosé can’t believe it, but Lisa picks her up and twirls her. She throws her head back, grabbing onto Lisa’s shoulders, and laughs. In those times, she lived for very little: The shows, her members, and the heady rush she gets whenever Lisa picks her up and spins her. When the magic of the shows began wearing off, she relied on those little moments between her and Lisa. Somehow, it never got old. 

When they arrive in Tokyo, it’s snowing. They freshen up at their hotel room and bundle up, and then explore the city. They’ve been here before, for work, but never for leisure. These days, the weather has been harsh all across East Asia, but somehow today it’s a little bit kinder, a little bit more forgiving. “This weather is so perfect,” she tells Lisa. _Like you_ , she’d like to add, but she bites her tongue—first, for being a cliché, and second, for trying to flirt in the first place.

She wonders exactly when they crossed the line between being best friends and being something more. They’ve never spoken about it, only felt it. Before, they could exchange physical affection without any problem: a kiss on the cheek, an accidental graze, a look held too long. They would either burst out laughing or play it up, especially if there were cameras and people around. 

These days, it’s getting harder and harder to tell if what they’re doing to each other is something else; if it’s something more. When there’s a lull in rehearsals or during recording, she often catches Lisa looking at her, and when she does, Lisa looks away, acting like she hadn’t been doing anything. When she puts her hand on Lisa’s waistline, as she so often does, she feels Lisa tense instead of melt into her. She feels her heart drop, longing for the closeness she’d become so accustomed to all these years.

She doesn’t realize she hasn’t moved in a while, until Lisa grabs her face, bringing it closer to hers. “Chaeyoung! Are you there?” she asks, laughing. 

“Sorry, I got distracted,” Rosé tells her, and hopes that Lisa chalks it up to her absent-mindedness. 

Lisa eyes her for a moment, but whatever it was she was going to say, she lets it go. Rosé breathes a sigh of relief. Overjoyed, she grabs Lisa’s hand and pulls her into a nearby café. It’s a quaint little establishment; the counter is adorned in fairy lights, and it smells a wonderful mix of hot chocolate and coffee. She and Lisa find a corner table, tucked away in the back.

“I could almost kiss you,” Lisa tells her when she returns with their drinks. “I’ve been freezing.” 

“Me too,” Rosé says, settling in, bringing her mug of hot chocolate closer to her face.

“Thanks for asking me to go with you,” Lisa tells her.

“Thanks for saying yes,” she replies. “I wasn’t expecting you to. I know how important it is for you to be with family whenever we get breaks like this.”

“Why didn’t you want to come home?” Lisa says abruptly. Rosé’s eyes dart to hers, worried. Lisa softens, smiling. “Anything you’re not telling me?”

“I tell you everything, you know,” Rosé says. 

“How come you’re in a completely different country with me on one of the rare times we get a vacation, instead of back in Australia with your family?”

“Because I told them I needed to do something brave,” Rosé reveals, keeping her gaze on the rising steam from her drink. 

“I don’t understand,” Lisa says, her eyebrows furrowing.

“It’s okay,” Rosé tells her. “I’m not brave enough to do it yet.”

Rosé feels a shift in the atmosphere, the one that’s always kept her and Lisa close to each other. Lisa blinks repeatedly, setting her drink down. She starts to look upset, and Rosé begins to panic. 

“Calm down, Lalisa,” she says. “It’s nothing gay.”

_iv._

_I’m in Seoul_ , she types. _Flying back to New York tomorrow. Feel like hopping on a plane to Tokyo though—that’s how much I miss you_. 

She looks at her phone again, her heart racing. She hits send. What else does she have to lose? She already lost Lisa ages ago. 

The dreaded grey bubble appears. Rosé holds her breath. But it disappears, and Rosé is horrified at herself. Shaken, she turns off her phone and tries to get some sleep before her flight tomorrow. 

Then, of course: Her phone buzzes.

_Hop on one_ , is all Lisa says. 

Rosé smiles. 

_v._

When she sees the familiar lights and shapes of the country where once, long ago, she brought a love lost, she starts feeling butterflies again. It’s the scary kind, she notes; the kind of fluttering that makes her feel lightheaded and nauseous, like the stage fright she had to learn to get over as a child. 

When she tells Lisa she just landed, she thinks about the absurdity of the situation. Not a few hours ago, she was packed and ready to fly home to New York—how did she end up in another country’s airport, preparing to see Lisa for the first time in _years_? 

“I’ve always known you to be a softie, Park Chaeyoung,” she hears from behind her.

Rosé turns around and sees Lisa. At once, she starts running to her, crashing into her so hard that they both topple and land on the floor. The girls share a hearty laugh, and for a brief moment it feels like they’re eighteen again, scared shitless but ready to take on the world. 

“Are you brave enough to do it now?” Lisa asks.

“What are you talking ab—” Rosé starts, but is cut off by Lisa’s lips, soft and warm and nothing and everything like she’s imagined. She thinks about nothing else but the girl she’d shared so much of her life with, the girl whose hands are closing the gap between their bodies. She kisses Lisa like there’s no one else around, like this won’t end up on the internet in exactly two seconds, like her career—as well as Lisa’s—didn’t just take a turn for the unexpected. 

It doesn’t matter, Rosé thinks, Lisa’s hair soft in her hands. All that matters is that she’d finally been brave enough.

**Author's Note:**

> title from _lips on lips_ by tiffany young. 
> 
> well, folks, it’s official: i’m spiraling! i heard kelsea ballerini’s cover of _lost in japan_ , and i couldn’t _not_ write this. i hope you enjoyed!


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